


Daddy Never Came Home

by averysubtleart



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Im so sorry for being such a bitch, M/M, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averysubtleart/pseuds/averysubtleart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I fucking love you, Arthur Elliot Callahan, and I will love you for the rest of my life wherever you may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy Never Came Home

"Arthur, please. Don't."  
  
"Eames, you know I don't have a choice.  I have to do this."  
  
"..."  
  
"Look, I promise that after this time round, I won't leave you or the kids ever again. I swear to god."  
  
"You know it's going to take alot more than that to convince me."  
  
"Come on. Don't be like that. I'll only be going for one day."  
  
"Anything can happen within an hour, let alone a day."  
  
"I've done my homework, and if you haven't noticed it's all I've been talking about for the past month."  
  
"But still... I can't just give you the go-ahead for suicide and be cool about it."  
  
"You have Cobb's word for this."  
  
"If you're talking about safety issues, I don't trust Cobb."  
  
"Fine. You have MY word for it."  
  
"... Promise me then. Promise me that you'll come back alive, or I will hate you for life, even when you're dead."  
  
"Come here, love." And then Arthur had cupped Eames' face and pressed a long kiss on his lips while letting his tongue search around the latter's, seeking for solace and love and comfort and trust and the reassurance that the British man would always give him before any job. When they separated, Eames' face was wet and shiny with tears brimming in those reddened eyes.   
  
"I love you, William Alexander Eames." Arthur's voice caught on the last word.  
  
"Love you too."  
  


\--  
  


"Papa, where's Daddy?" 5 year old Allie tugs at her Eames' hemline. Eames can barely look at his daughter and tell her the inevitable, but he manages it with a plastered smile. "Allie, Daddy... He's never going to come back again."  
  
"Why? Where did he go?" The innocence in Allie's voice brings a flood of emotions up Eames, but he swallows it down.  
  
"Daddy sorta went on a long vacation. To a very nice place called Heaven, where everyone is happy there." His voice chokes on emotions.  
  
"Like Paradise?"  
  
"Yeah, like Paradise. But invisible Paradise." Allie seems to consider this before flouncing off to find Phillipa and James Cobb. Eames, on the other hand, looks away and gazes out into the lush green land that stretched endlessly beyond the horizon. He and Arthur would come here whenever they needed to, or felt like it.  
  


\--  
  


"What's your point on making me come here?" Arthur eyes Eames carefully; he does not like secrets at all. Personal motto: find out everything first before trying to do something.  
  
"Darling, you need a break. Sit down." Eames furrows his eyebrows as he gives Arthur a little slap on the hand and wrenches away the little brown felt book in Arthur's hands. Arthur takes a step forward before tentatively sitting down cross-legged, looking completely out of place in his buttoned up suit and his signature grey vest.  "Where's my notebook?" Arthur demands in a growl, in which Eames finds it hilarious to see the point man looking for what he thinks is the point man's idea of a safety blanket.  
  
"You won't be needing it now, love. You can remove your blindfolds now." Grinning gleefully (it was considered an achievement for Eames to actually have Arthur obey him), Eames strolls leisurely and takes the spot next to Arthur, lying with his left arm propped up to support his head. He watches on with besumement as the point man rips off the blindfold, head already turning in all directions to estimate their location.   
  
"God, see? You're so bloody strung up all the time, you're worse than a spring! Loosen up." Arthur takes offence at his habitual precautionary actions and glares at him, which in Eames' opnion, only makes him more adorable.  
  
"Do you like it?" Eames queries Arthur, but he is ignored. The forger chuckles; he knows that silence from the point man is his way of expressing agreement when he's being proven wrong. Arthur. On that final thought, he goes back to lying flat on his back, cushioning his head with his palms, eyes shutting while he lets all the worries drift away from him.  
  
"Eames." Arthur's voice pulls him back to reality as Eames opens his eyes. He is immediately taken aback; Arthur has never rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, neither has he ever unbuttoned his collar in living memory.  
  
"Hmm?" Eames is still recovering from the shock but more importantly, he is staring at those unbelievably sexy forearms of his. Bloody hell.  
  
"It's good. This place, I mean."  
  
"Glad that you like it here, love."  
  


\--  
  


"It was his favourite place to de-stress." Ariadne comes from his behind and loops a tiny arm around his waist, eyes still bloodshot from the silent tears that fell at the funeral procession. Eames knows that fact full well; it was him who first brought him here. The only reason she knows this is becuase she's Arthur's confidante and they used to come here to talk private, but he chooses not to mention it. Instead, he decides to go with the conventional pleasantries.  
  
"Thanks for coming, it means alot to him."   
  
"Hey, what for? Everyone loved him." Eames glances down and sees the tiny architect giving a small smile, providing little comfort to the both of them.  
  
"Yeah, he was a great man." Cobb joins him and places a hand on his shoulder, offering him an olive branch. Even Yusuf (whom Arthur has only worked once with prior to this) joins in. "There was nothing we could do, he was out there on his own, the bullet just came and..." The end of his sentence hangs in the air like poison; nobody wants to hear it. Eames, however, isn't paying attention anymore. He mutters an apology and excuses himself, walking to a spot where there wasn't anyone within a 15m radius. He stops and stares out into the open area, reminiscing the memories they shared. Now that he has lost Arthur in human, he doesn't want to lose his memory of him.  
  


\--  
  


Eames drags the point man by the wrist, (not in a rough kidnapper manner, but in a hurry-up! way) and launches himself down onto the green land. The smaller and younger man follows behind, smiling and shaking his head, like a father watching his child enjoy (ironically). He walks over to beside the older British man, sits down with his legs outstretched and starts rolling up his sleeves and loosening his tie.  
  
Eames stares out into the open, fingers absently rotating the red pokerchip in his hand. It's his reality, but he finds it incredible and hard to believe. Over the past year, he has seen Arthur transform, layers of defence coming down one by one. Previously a mean little taciturn that refuses to have any form of social interaction with him unless absolutely necessary, now he is all Eames had ever wanted. Smart, witty, sensitive, graceful, elegant, perfect, his. Never mind that Arthur is always blunt, crude, snide while critising his personal choices, but ultimately, it has made him more refined. Eames glances sideways at his boyfriend, scanning him top down. The 2 years he spent trying to get Arthur definitely weren't wasted. The usual steel valour in that pair of chocolate brown eyes were replaced with softness. The usual flat edges of his lips were slightly quirked up in the small smile lingering on his face. The noose on the tie had been loosened to reveal an unbuttoned collar when it was once seemingly permanently stuck there. The rolled up sleeves gave way to a pair of forearms that Eames had never had the chance to oogle at before. And then came the fingers resting lightly on the grass. Eames is once again reminded of why he brought Arthur here. He keeps the pokerchip and fishes out a little felt box, containing a ring. It's a simple silver band, but Eames is one to know that what the point man appreciates the most are life's simple pleasures. And so he takes his chances.  
  
"Arthur."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Have you ever thought of yourself say, forty years down the road?" Eames watches as Arthur continues staring out into the open. After what seems like aeons, he finally stands up and takes a few steps forward. "I see myself with someone, just sitting and breathing, no words at all."  
  
Eames hurries to stand beside Arthur and breathes the next sentence into his ears. "Let me be that someone." The next thing he knows, he is down on one knee and the ring box is snapped open. "Arthur, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with you."  
  
Eames watches in slow motion as Arthur blinks before a warm grin slowly splits across his face, replacing the apprehension in his heart with love. At that point, he knows that it's a yes from Arthur, even though he does not notice the latter nodding furiously, neither does he hear the words "Oh, Eames," coming from Arthur as the both of them are locked in a tight embrace, bodies pressed flush against each other.  
  
\--  
  
"Papa, it's time to go." Allie's voice brings him back to reality as she tugs on the hemline of his suit.  
  
"Love, why don't you go with Uncle Dom first? Papa wants to stay here a little longer."  
  
"... Okay."  
  
"That's my girl. Now Papa will fetch you home in the evening, alright."  
  
"Papa?"  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
"I miss Daddy. I wish he was here." Eames looks into his daughter's emerald eyes and sees the sparkle of tears. That, combined with the effect of the first 3 words, is enough to send tears tracks streaking down his cheeks.  
  
"Me too, honey. Be good at Uncle Dom's." Already squatting, Eames pulls his adopted daughter into an embrace before watching her turn and wave as Cobb holds her tiny hand, walking further and further away. Watching the car pull out of the driveway, he stands and ambles towards Arthur's grave before lying sideways to face it. Tears pool at the base of his cheek, but Eames doesn't bother clearing them. Instead, he strokes the soil, as though he was stroking Arthur's hair.  
  
Hey darling, it's Eames. You'd probably know it's me because no one else calls you that. You hate it when people call you something else, but I guess I've been made exception. Thanks pet, that's really sweet of you. Anyway, it's been a whole week since you're gone. The whole house is quiet without you playing with Allie. She's been asking me where you went for the past week, but I didn't tell her that you died. It wasn't just because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, it was also because I couldn't stand to come to terms with it. Today, she asked me the same question and I told her you went to Heaven. Allie thinks that you're in Paradise and enjoying your time there, and she even tells me that she misses you. I'm so proud of her, Arthur dear, aren't you too? Only 5 and she knows not to whine and scream about having you back or it would've killed me. Also, today, Ariadne, Cobb, Yusuf and your parents came. They all said that they missed you and thay they were sorry for what happened to you. Isn't it a wonderful feeling to be missed? You're always on everyone's mind. But truth be told, missing you fucking kills me. Darling, when you left, I left. You were such an intergral part of me that when you left, it felt like the whole of me was gone forever. For the past few days, I've been finding it a struggle to even drag myself out of bed. You said I'm an actor and I'm supposed to be the best at what I do, but I can't. I miss you too much. I miss waking up to watching you dry your hair while wrapped in a towel. I miss how you taste like freshmint against the stink of my morning breathe when we kiss. I miss the way we sometimes end up having sex because you were too irresistable for me. I miss your gelled hair, your chocolate brown eyes, your three piece suit, the way your eyes focus when you're doing research, the way you loosen up when we come here to unwind. I miss your crude remarks about me and all your comebacks to my pickup lines. I miss the way you reward me with a smile that's enough for me to have the urge to kiss you full in public. I miss the way you look at me when I give you something simple, because that's what you love the most. Life's simple pleasures. I miss having being able to look at you, to talk to you, to love you, to think of crazy things when I look at you. When I wake up everyday, I see a ghost of you standing in front of me wrapped up in a towel and drying his hair. I'd like to think life hasn't changed a bit, it's you whom I'm looking at. But it isn't the way things work. You died suspended in limbo. Darling, now that you're gone, what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to look at the red die Ariadne gave to me after the job ended and think of all those stuff? Do you think I can feel you the way I used to when you were still alive? You might say I can dream of you and feel the same but honey, let me tell you how it feels like. I tried, and it doesn't feel the same. It's an inexplicable feeling. You are you, but you are not you. That's the best I can do to explain it. And so I turn to the red die and I take it with me wherever I go, together with my pokerchip. It's the only way I can be with you forever and always, unless I lose them both. On the day of my proposal to you, you said that forty years down the road, you'd be with someone that you love, just sitting and breathing. Love, that will have to be in our dreams. It can't happen in reality. Which is why I really think you're such a fucking bastard, for not coming back alive. But still, I don't hate you. It was you who changed my life, from the high school frat boy to the adult I am. Because of you, I quit smoking and drink wine instead of beer. I got myself proper suits instead of my what-you-call-obnoxious hawaiian top and slacks. But hey, they're still my favourite. And darling, because of you, I know what true love is and that is how we come to have a family of 3. I know that you knew that I was joking when I said I would hate you for life if you didn't coming back alive, but I still need to apologise. So Arthur, I'm sorry for saying that I will hate you for the rest of my life, because instead, I love you. I fucking love you, Arthur Elliot Callahan, and I will love you for the rest of my life wherever you may be.


End file.
